The Carnival
by Devil Take The Hindmost
Summary: Set ten years after Phantom of the Opera. Alternative to Love Never Dies. What would have happened to the Phantom if Madame Giry hadn't helped him? Comments and constructive criticism are very much welcome!
1. Chapter 1

"Mother! Please can we go to the carnival?" Gustave asked, "It looks wonderful fun."

"We shall have to ask your father," Christine replied, softly patting her son's head.

"But he'll say no!"

She sighed, Gustave was right. There was no way Raoul would let them spend money on something that didn't involve him getting drunk or gambling. It had started about six months after they had married, at first it had just been small bets and a whiskey before bed, but over the last year and a half things had escalated. He tried to hide it from her but Christine knew he'd wasted his fortune and most of her savings too.

"You cannot be so sure," she smiled, "I don't see him having a problem with us going out together as a family for once."

"He never spends any time with us!" Gustave exclaimed, tears forming in his eyes.

"Oh come here," she sighed, pulling her son into a tight embrace, "When is this carnival anyway?"

"It's only here till tomorrow," her son sniffled, his tears soaking her dress.

Raoul would not be happy if she made a promise without first consulting him, although the chances of him returning home that night were small. He would probably lose the house before admitting he had a problem.

"How about you and I go? Just us two?"

"What about father?" Gustave asked, "Will he not be upset that we didn't ask him?"

"I've just remembered your father is away on business and won't be back until tomorrow morning," she lied, hoping Gustave wouldn't notice.

Gustave didn't notice and his face lit up with happiness. He was only ten years old but very intelligent for his age. It would not be long before he realised what his father was really doing.

"So we shall go to the carnival tonight?"

"Yes, my dear."

"Thank you, mother," he grinned and then skipped out of the room.

Moments later Christine heard the piano. Gustave was very musical, a trait he must have inherited from his grandfather, she assured herself. There was nobody else he could have got it from, well there was one, but that was impossible. It simply could not be! Yet she could not rid the thought from her mind. There was nothing of Raoul in Gustave and he had noticed. She saw the way he looked at the boy sometimes, she knew what he suspected.

Things like that are better off in the past. There was no point in dragging all that history up now. The man was dead.

"Madame? A letter has just been delivered."

"Put it in my husband's office with all the rest of his mail," she ordered, not bothering to look up at the servant.

"The letter is addressed to you," the girl replied and placed the letter on the table next to Christine.

Once the servant had left Christine picked up the letter and began to examine the envelope. The handwriting was neat, yet flowing and artistic, the paper was old as if it had been kept in a box for a long time. The oddest thing was what had been written on it.

"Miss Christine Daae."

Either the person did not know she was married or was refusing to accept it. She had a feeling that she knew which option it was. After further examination she decided to open the envelope. Breaking the unrecognisable seal carefully, she then slipped the letter out and began to read:

"I am your angel of music."

Those six words made her feel a little faint and a wave of nausea swept over her. A few moments later she recovered herself enough to stare at the letter a little longer. This could not be! It was impossible! He had perished in the fire that had ripped through the opera house and destroyed it so savagely.

"Mother?"

She could not reply, no words would form in her mouth.

"You look rather pale? Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," she whispered and attempted to smile at her son.

Gustave was apparently unsatisfied by her response and tried to read the letter she was clutching in her hand. She pulled it closer to her chest so he was unable to see the writing. Then the envelope dropped to the floor with a light thud. It wasn't empty.

"I'll get it," Gustave smiled and picked up the envelope at an odd angle causing the contents of the envelope to spill onto the floor.

She let out a short gasp as the world began to darken. All she saw was her son's worried face before everything went completely dark. The boy looked at his mother and then the ring that lay on the floor beside her.

"What did you do?" a voice shouted.

"Nothing, I swear," another voice whimpered.

Christine slowly began to regain her senses. Her eyes flickered open. She was lying on her bed with Gustave and Raoul standing nearby. They were the voices.

"He did nothing," she said, "I was just feeling a little odd. Much better now though."

"Oh right," her husband sighed, "My apologies son. I'm away to get some work done before dinner, then we can play cards after."

"Actually Gustave and I are going out."

"What?" he asked, obviously thinking he had misheard.

"I promised Gustave a few weeks ago that I would take him to the carnival tonight. We spoke about it the other night."

She hated lying to him like this. He would believe her because he had been completely drunk the last few nights.

"Oh, that completely slipped my mind," he lied, "Have fun but don't overdo it!"

With that he left the room, stumbling slightly in the doorway. It had been too good to be true, him arriving home sober for once.

"Here's your ring," Gustave announced, placing the envelope beside her on the bed.

A feeling of panic rose up inside her, had Raoul read the letter? He would know straight away who the sender was.

"I didn't show it to father," her son whispered, "He was in an awful mood and I thought this may have made it worse."

"Thank you, Gustave," she smiled.

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Gustave leapt to his feet. His eyes were filled with curiousity.

"Who sent you the ring?" he asked.

"A very dear old friend."

Silence descended again.

"When should we leave?"

All she wanted to do was get out of the house, to get as far away from her husband as possible.

"We'll leave as soon as we're ready," she replied, and laughed as her son sprinted out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

The streets of the city were busy and Christine felt a sense of nervousness build up inside her. It had been a long time since she had been out in the city alone without Raoul or someone else to look after her. Gustave was staying very close to his mother, clutching her hand and humming something to himself.

"Gustave, what is that song?"

"Oh, nothing, just a tune in my head," he replied.

That feeling built up inside her but she did everything to stop it. It was a completely ridiculous idea! Completely impossible! Gustave skin was unblemished. That man could not have a child so perfect. She had to stop thinking such things although it was hard with the ring on her finger.

"Mother!" Gustave squealed, "Look! It's beautiful!"

They had rounded the corner of a street. Normally it was just an empty field but that night it was unrecognisable. Christine gasped, it was filled with many tents which were all illuminated by thousands of tiny lights. Hundreds of people were bustling around, smiling and laughing. Soon they arrived at the entrance.

"How much is the entry fee?" Christine asked the old lady perched behind the counter.

"Free for you, my dearest," the women replied, giving her a toothless grin.

Chrsitine froze.

"What do you mean?"

"I think you know," the woman cackled.

"I have no idea and I would be very grateful if you would perhaps explain?"

"Lawrence!" the woman called and a man appeared beside her, "This lady has a few questions."

The man nodded, then motioned for them to follow him into a small hut just inside the gates. Christine sighed but followed, what choice did she have really? The hut door opened with a wail and it was dimly light inside.

"What do you want to know?" the man asked, impatiently.

"Why I have been granted free entry into this Carnival!" she replied, the annoyance apparent in her tone of voice.

"I'm fairly sure you know exactly why."

"It's him, isn't it?" she muttered, pulling Gustave closer to her, protectively.

"Well done!" Lawrence replied, clapping sarcastically.

"Does he own this thing?"

The man let out a howl of laughter. He seemed to find Christine's question hilarious and this made her even more annoyed. She did not like this man yet he was her only way of finding out exactly what was happening.

"He likes to think he own the place," he chuckled, "But in reality he's nothing more than a performer…we he performs isn't really the right word."

"What?"

"Why don't you go see for yourself?" the man hissed while giving her a sinister smile.

"Fine then!" she exclaimed, spun around and stormed out of the hut.

"Third tent on the right!" the man called after her, "I wouldn't take the boy in if I were you!"

Christine winced at his words. She had a fair idea of what awaited her in the third tent on the left but she didn't want to jump to conclusions. This could just be a big misunderstanding.

"Mother, what is going on?"

"If I'm being honest, I'm not quite sure," Christine sighed, this was no time to hide things from her son.

Gustave didn't reply. As they got closer to the tent she began to feel a little unwell and hoped she would not faint again.

"Can I go on the carousel, please?"

She jumped, she had been deep in thought and the sound of Gustave's voice gave her a small fright. This would be perfect, Gustave could go on the carousel while she went into the tent and found out the truth. She handed him a few coins and pushed him towards the ride.

"Oh god," she whispered, taking deep breaths as she walked towards the tent.

The third tent on the left was not lit up as brightly at the rest. There was not as many children running around near it and there was an odd atmosphere surrounding it. She approached the door but a man stopped her.

"Miss, this isn't the kind of place for a lady like you," he whispered in her ear, "This tent is not for those of a sensitive disposition."

"I am not an innocent lady that needs your protection, thank you very much."

Sliding the black velvet curtain away she slipped into the tent. The tent was not well lit and it took a moment for her eyes to properly adjust. She took a step forward but stopped when she noticed the cage in front of her.

There were about a dozen cages in the tent, all of which had a crowd of people surrounding them. She noticed a young couple near her, the girl was clutching to the man and crying about "how horrible the freaks were."

She had to hold onto a metal pole for support as the room spun around her. Her fears were about to come true. It occurred to her that the best thing to do may be to leave but she ruled that out quickly. She would do this for him.

Stepping forward she sneaked a glance into the first cage, then let out a sigh of relief. In the cage was a tiny person, with the lighting and the distance it was impossible to tell their gender. All she had to know was that it wasn't who Christine was looking for.

The next one wasn't him or the next or the next. She approached the next one then let another sigh of relief. The crowds were dispersing and it was a while before Christine realised they were all heading to the one cage.

A horrible feeling built up inside her as she made her way through the crowd, doing everything she could to get to the front. A few people muttered abuse as she made her way through until eventually she arrived at her destination.

For some reason she could not bring herself to look up from the ground. She took a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart. It wasn't working and she began to feel faint.

"Come on," she muttered to herself, "You've got this far! You may as well have a look!"

Still she could not do it, she didn't want to see him like that. He obviously wanted to see her though and she should at least do something for him. His life had not been a good one so far and Christine was to blame for part of that.

A scream in the crowd made her look up before she was ready. The cage was darker than the rest and she once again had to wait a few moments before her eyes adjusted. When they did adjust she wished they hadn't.

In the cage a man stood, a man Christine knew very well, a man she had loved. He did not wear his white mask which meant his disfigurement was on clear view. His suit was dirty, ripped and not at all like she remembered, he had always been so impeccably dressed. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes, all she wanted to do was get out of there. She began to turn away.

"Christine."

Her head snapped up and she was caught in his stare. She looked into his eyes but did not see the glimmer they had once held, they looked sad and broken. After about thirty seconds of just standing staring he began to walk towards her, his stride was short and stiff.

"My angel."

Someone in the crowd muttered something and something was thrown into the cage. It hit him on the left side but he did not even react, his eyes were fixed on Christine. She looked down to see what had hit him, it was some sort of fruit.

He continued to walk forward until his face was pressed against the metal bars of the cage. The rest of the crowd took a step back, muttering to each other excitedly. Christine was the only member of the crowd who stepped forward, pressing her whole body against the bars.

"I'm here," she whispered, tears pouring down her cheeks.

They were as close as they could possibly be with the metal bars in their way. He reached his hand out and stroked it down her cheek, wiping away her tears, his own eyes too were filling up. The crowd was forgotten as they lost themselves in the reunion.

That was until something else was launched through the air at him. This time it struck his arm just below his shoulder and it was immediately obvious that this time he was injured. The glass bottle smashed as it hit the ground and he clutched his arm in pain.

The crowd laughed as he got angrier but suddenly he stopped. He fell to the ground, then held his head in his hands. At the sight of the once great and powerful man broken and lying on the ground made Christine get very, very angry.

"What's so funny?" she shouted, spinning around to face the crowd.

Nobody spoke, suddenly the crowd didn't have anything to say. This did nothing but make her angrier.

"Why would you do that to him? He's just as human as you and me!"

"No he isn't," a man laughed, "Look at his face! That is anything but human!"

Something else was thrown into the cage and hit him. This time he did not react, he just sat there looking defeated. Soon it seemed that everyone in the crowd was throwing things at him. No matter how loud Christine shouted and screamed it did not make any difference.

She stepped backwards towards the cage and something pulled her backwards.

"Christine," the voice whispered, "Stop it. You're not going to stop them. Please, just go, I don't want you to get hurt."

"Why don't you fight back?" she asked, her voice cracking with emotion.

"There's no point," he sighed, "Just go, seeing you has been enough to get me through this."

Her heart leapt at his words. Did she really mean that much to him? Could he really still love her after all these years? After everything that had happened? She turned around and found his face was a lot closer than expected, she did not move, his disfigurement no longer scared her. His eyes told her what he felt, they were now lit up and filled with pure love.

"I don't want to leave."

"You must," he replied, tears we spilling down his cheeks.

"Goodbye," she smiled, then pulled him into a kiss which after a moment of doubt he returned.

Eventually he pulled away, then pushed her away from him into the crowd. With one last look she turned and left the tent, promising herself that she would help him somehow.

Outside Gustave was waiting patiently. His eyes widened when he saw his mother and she realised how awful she must look.

"Should we go home?" he asked, to which Christine nodded.

What could she do? A few years ago she would have marched straight to the owner and bought him for a ludicrous sum but Raoul's habits meant that was impossible. She would have to find a way that didn't involve money.

Their carriage was waiting for them and they stepped in quickly. After about ten more minutes of deep thought a plan began to form in her head. A plan to save him.


	3. Chapter 3

Gustave was asleep in bed and Raoul had left a note saying he had been called away on an urgent business trip which was a lie but rather convenient. She had waited until all the servants had gone to bed before she slipped on her cloak and dashed out of the door.

Unfortunately, she had never learned to ride a horse or steer a carriage so walking was her only option. This was not easy in her rather unpractical shoes and long silk dress. It was incredibly dark, the streets were not well lit and she was beginning to wonder whether she would ever find the Carnival.

Then she rounded a familiar corner. The lights were dimming now but the Carnival was still easily recognisable. As she neared the main entrance it dawned on her that the Carnival would most definitely be closed at this ridiculous time of night. She swerved to the left, then began to walk around the circumference of the Carnival, trying to spot the third tent on the left.

"Come one," she muttered, her eyes searching through the tents.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, she spotted it. Glancing around to make sure she wasn't being watched she quickly marched to the tent. One last look around before she opened the curtain and dashed into the darkness.

This time it was pitch black inside, making it impossible to see anything. She stood still, trying to picture what lay in front of her. Panic rose up inside her, this was no place for a lady such as her! Humming to herself in an attempt to calm her nerves she began to walk forward.

There were low whispers and wails as she walked past the cages but she did not stop. She was not going to turn back now. After a few painstaking minutes she arrived at where she thought his cage was. A few deeps breaths later she was ready.

One step at a time. The panic inside her was not subsiding not matter how much humming she did. All of a sudden Christine found herself pressed against the bars of a cage. She prayed that this was the right one.

"Are you there?" she whispered.

There was silence.

"Are you there?" she repeated, much louder this time.

Something moved on the other side of the metal bars. A second later someone was in front of her, their faces almost touching and their breath mingling, yet it was impossible to see who it was.

"What are you doing here?" he exclaimed, a panic in his voice.

"I couldn't just leave you like that," she replied, "I had to make sure you were alright."

"I'm fine," he hissed, "Now go, quickly! Before someone catches you!"

"Can you get out of there?" she asked.

He hesitated for a moment.

"Yes," he admitted, "But I doubt I could walk very far. I have a rather infected wound on my right leg."

"Just come out," she begged.

Sighing he stumbled over to the other side of the cage. Christine heard him kneel down and began to tamper with the lock. About thirty seconds later there was a screech as the gate swung open. He stood up but lost his balance and toppled back down to the ground.

Christine let out a short yelp, then ran around the cage to help him. Although she was not strong she somehow managed to pull him to his feet. Her eyes had now adjusted slightly to the darkness and she could see vague details of his face.

"What did you want me out here for?"

"I'm going to get you out of here."

His head cocked to the side as he contemplated her words.

"Why would you do that for me?" he asked, "I left you."

"Nobody deserves this," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a tight embrace.

At that moment he broke down, his sobs made his whole body shake and his tears soaked the shoulder of her cloak. For a while they just stood there until he regained his composure and pulled away from the embrace.

"If we get caught God knows what they'll do to you."

"I do not care," she replied, "Come on now, we must hurry!"

She grabbed him arm and put it around her shoulder for support. He was incredibly thin which meant the weight was bearable but they still would have to go quickly. As the exited the tent a man walked by but took no notice of them.

The hurried through the circus and were soon on the street outside. Christine hailed a taxi cab which stopped swiftly, the driver jumped out and helped her lift him into the car.

"Do you want me to drop you at a hospital?" the driver asked, his face filled with concern.

"No, he's fine," she replied, "His walking stick broke and he finds it very hard to cope without it."

Luckily the driver could not see his disfigurement, he shrugged his shoulders, then jumped onto the front of the carriage. Soon they were speeding along the road towards home where they would spend the night. Raoul would not be back until late the next day when she would have hopefully worked something out.

They arrived at the house in a matter of minutes, the driver once again helped Christine lift him out of the cab. She paid him and she was left to struggle up the steps without any help.

"Mother, is that you?"

Christine froze. The man next her was giving her a questioning look.

"Yes, Gustave, I was just getting some air," she called, "I felt a little faint again."

The little head disappeared from the upstairs window, his curiosity apparently quenched. Meanwhile Christine managed to unlock the door and stumble through the door, almost collapsing from exhaustion.

They managed to get into the drawing room and collapsed onto the chairs. She switched on lights and got her first proper look at her angel.

His face was almost the same as she remembered, maybe a little thinner and paler. He was a lot thinner overall. She had always remembered him being impeccably dressed and his suit had obviously been nice but it was old and tattered.

"Thank you."

"You are very welcome."

Silence descended, suddenly neither of them knew quite what to say. They both had so many questions for the other but didn't know quite where to start.

"Let me see your leg," she ordered, kneeling down beside him.

"It's not a very pleasant sight," he winced, as she rolled up his trouser leg and let out a small gasp.

The wound was large and seeping yellow fluid. It was a stark contrast to his pale skin and was obviously causing him a lot of pain.

"You really must get this seen to," she mused, "By a doctor."

"I have no money," he sighed.

"Then I will pay for it, my friend is a doctor. He will treat you and won't ask any questions."

"I cannot let you do that!" he exclaimed, "I'll be fine."

"You can owe me it," she smiled.

After considering this for a few moments he gave her a small nod.

"I'm going to get some water to clean this up a little," she announced.

She walked speedily to the bathroom and soon returned to the drawing room. He had not moved an inch since she had left but turned to look at her as she entered. Moving quickly still she knelt beside him and began to clean his wound. Silence had once again descended, this time he was the one to break it.

"Where is Raoul?" he asked.

"I'm not sure to be perfectly honest," she admitted, "In a bar, drunk and gambling what little we have left."

Once she had said it she immediately regretted it. She should not be telling others such personal things. This should stay between her and her husband.

"Oh."

"I would not be surprised if we lost the house tonight."

"Surely things cannot be that bad," he interjected.

"They are."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, stroking her cheek.

"Sorry for Raoul's behaviour or sorry for leaving me?"

His face paled slightly at her words.

"As I explained in the letter I left-"

"A letter!" she exclaimed, "I admitted that I loved you! I said I was going to stay with you instead of Raoul! I was ready to give up my life for you and all you left was a letter!"

"Christine!"

"I am very tired," she announced, "I'll show you to your room."


	4. Chapter 4

That had been his longest sleep in months. However, he woke up disorientated and with no idea where he was. It took him over a minute to remember the events of the night before. All of a sudden everything came back to him.

Christine had returned to him and saved him. He had sent her that letter in the hope that he would get to see her one last time. Seeing her again had instilled a happiness deep inside him that he had not felt for a long time.

After she had left the darkness had surrounded him again but then her voice had called out. Even after everything he had done she wanted to save him.

"Are you awake?"

"Yes," he replied, sitting up in the bed.

She appeared to be inspecting his appearance for a few moments, then looked up and met his eyes. They stayed like that for a long time, neither wanting to break the contact. Eventually she looked away but took a few steps towards him, until she was standing over him. She reached out and tenderly stroked the scarred side of his face.

Her action took him back to the last time they had been in the Opera House together. The night she had chosen Raoul over him, the night he had declared his love and she had left him. He would never forget it.

"Were you really going to leave him for me?" he asked.

"Yes," she admitted, removing her hand from his face, "But you didn't give me the chance."

"We both know I did the right thing," he replied, quietly, reaching out to take her hand.

"How can you say that?" she whispered, pulling her hand away from his.

"What kind of life would you have with me?"

"How could it have been any worse than this?" she exclaimed, being careful not to raise her voice, "My life isn't exactly perfect."

"It's better than what I could have given you."

It dawned on Christine that nothing she was ever going to change his mind. She was suddenly overcome with an urge to tell him her suspicions about Gustave's father. Raoul and she had tried for another child since then but they had been unable.

"He has given me nothing that you could not have."

"A child that isn't hideously deformed?"

"There is no way of knowing if your children would inherit that," she replied, annoyance apparent in her tone.

"One can be fairly certain."

She sighed and shook her head.

"We need to discuss what exactly what we're going to do with you."

Silence descended.

"Raoul will return soon and I think it would be better if you two didn't meet," Christine continued.

"I could return to the Opera House," he suggested.

"I am not too sure if Monsieur Firmin and Monsieur André would appreciate you moving back into their newly rebuilt Opera House," Christine grimaced slightly.

"I was not aware that you were still in contact with them."

"Yes," she replied, "They sent me a letter the other week offering me the position of prima donna at the Opera House."

He seemed surprised by this revelation.

"Of course I did not accept," she stated, "I am a lady now."

"But think how wonderful it would be to sing on stage again," he smiled.

Christine agreed it would be wonderful but she could not do that to Raoul. She had promised him that she would never sing there again when they married. It was still a very tempting offer and the money would be rather helpful.

"It would be wonderful to sing again," she sighed, "They want me to sing at the reopening."

She still loved Raoul, he realised suddenly. There was no way that she would ever pick him over Raoul, unless he could get her to sing again.

"You should do it."

She really wanted to.

"I will speak to Raoul," she replied, "And I could book you into a hotel for a few weeks."

"Thank you."

She noticed this time that he did not protest at her spending money for him. He knew it would make no difference as she had already made up her mind.

"The doctor will arrive shortly. I am going out for a short while but I'll be back soon," she announced and left the room.

Gustave was waiting for her a few feet from the door; his face was filled with curiosity.

"Who is staying with us mother?" he asked.

"An old friend."

"The same old friend that gave you the ring?"

"Yes," she muttered, not paying very close attention.

"When can I meet him?"

"You can meet him if you stop asking questions," Christine laughed, as she helped her son into his coat.

She would drop him at his tutor and then do what needed to be done.

"Hello," she smiled, "May I make a booking?"

"Yes," the man behind the desk grinned, looking Christine up and down, "Is it for yourself?"

"No," she replied, "It's for a friend."

"When will he be staying?" the man asked and she could have sworn he winked at her.

"From tonight."

"The bill will be settled at the end of his stay," the man stated.

Christine turned to leave. That was her last task of the day. She had went shopping first, purchasing piano music for Gustave and a rather nice black wig for the man she had saved.


	5. Chapter 5

Christine sat and watched Gusatve play piano. Over the past few days she had become more certain of her son's real parentage. There was nothing of Raoul in the boy. She had made sure that Gustave had not met their guest.

There was a noise from behind as someone entered the room, she spun around expecting the worst. However, it was not her husband, it was him. He was looking much better with Raoul's old suit, his new wig and the mask that she had kept for all these years.

His eyes widened when he saw Gustave and he began to edge backwards out of the room. Christine shook her head and beckoned him into the room.

"Gustave!" she smiled, "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

The boy stopped playing and turned around to face the two adults. He looked at his mother, then smiled at the stranger.

"This is…erm…well…" she trailed off, she didn't know his name. It had never really occurred to her that he even had a name.

"I'm Erik," he smiled, then reached forward and shook Gustave's hand.

"And I'm Gustave."

Was that really is name? She supposed it was, he had no reason to lie about it.

Erik crouched down beside Gustave, smiling at the boy.

"What age are you, Gustave?" he asked.

"Ten," the boy announced proudly.

There was a flicker of something on Erik's face but it disappeared almost immediately. Her son did not notice anything.

"I hear you play piano," Erik stated, "I suppose your father pays for a teacher."

"No," Gustave replied, "I teach myself. It's easy enough."

Another flicker, this time followed by a glance towards Christine.

"Would you play for me?"

"Of course," Gustave grinned, spinning around towards the piano.

Erik sat across from Christine, his eyes darting from her to Gustave. They made eye contact and he immediately looked away. His eyes were filled with worry. Before she could say anything Gustave began to play.

After listening intently for a few minutes Erik stood up and walked over to the piano. He stood there watching Gustave play. Panic began to rise up inside Christine. He knew. Then Gustave stopped playing.

"What was that piece called?" Erik asked with genuine interest.

"It doesn't have a name," Gustave replied, "I made it up myself."

At that moment Erik had to sit down very quickly. His face was even paler than usual, if that was possible. His hands were shaking and Christine thought he may be about to faint.

"Gustave, go to your room please."

Gustave sensed something was wrong so did exactly as he was told. They were soon left alone. Christine walked over and sat on the floor beside his chair.

"I assume my suspicions are correct?"

"Yes," she whispered, reaching for his hand and grasping it tightly, "I wished more than anything that I could have told you but I thought you were dead."

She looked up and noticed there were tears pouring down his cheeks. His hands were still shaking but he no longer looked on the verge of fainting.

"Promise me something."

"Anything," she replied, tears beginning to slide down her cheeks.

"Never tell him the truth. Let him live his life believing Raoul is his father."

This was not what she had expected. She had expected him to be angry but this was worse. This was so much worse.

"I'll do whatever you want, I owe you that much."

"Thank you," he mumbled, wiping the tears from his face.

"And I will sing at the opera house again," she announced, standing up, "I will sing for you again."

He stood up and they found themselves much closer than expected. Suddenly she pulled him towards her and their lips crashed together. They fell backwards onto the chair but did not stop. Erik pulled her onto his lap but then suddenly pulled away from the kiss. Christine looked into his eyes, he looked absolutely terrified.

"I-I erm…" he stuttered, his face reddening slightly.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Erik sighed.

"This is hardly appropriate," he replied, regaining his composure, "You are a married woman."

"Raoul is hardly a husband to me."

"You did choose him."

She leaped from his lap, her anger building. Why would he say such a thing?

"Why do you always bring everything back to that?" she exclaimed.

"What? The fact that you had me hunted down?"

"You killed people!" she almost screamed.

"I thought you loved me."

She stopped shouting. He was looking at her in such an innocent manner that she found it impossible to stay angry at him.

"I am so sorry," she whispered.

"I understand," he replied, "You would still pick him over me."

Christine froze. She didn't know what to say in reply. If she had to choose now who would she pick? To be honest she wasn't sure. Everything was different now. It was then she noticed that he had been watching her intently, a smirk growing on his face.

"How times have changed!"

Stepping away from him, Christine could feel tears forming in her eyes again. She could never choose him, she had her son to think about.

"I have booked you into a hotel for tonight," she stated, staring at the ground so there was no chance of making eye contact.

"Thank you," he replied, "I take it you want me to leave as soon as possible."

"Just go."


	6. Chapter 6

He left almost immediately that night and Chrsitine hadn't seen him since. Raoul had stumbled in the door two days later, completely oblivious to everything that had happened. They had argued, he had promised to change. The next night he got drunk again.

She was going to fulfil her promise and sing at the Opera House. Everything was sorted. Rehearsals started that day. Monsieur Andre had informed her that she would be singing only one song at the opening concert, a song of her choice.

Gustave kept asking when Erik would be visiting again. He had liked him and had tried to get as much information about him from his mother as he possibly could. She had told him almost nothing.

"Madame, you have a guest."

"Send them up," she ordered the young maid.

About a minute later Erik entered the room. He was looking much healthier and was wearing a much nicer suit than the one she had given him.

"I managed to get access to my money from my days as the Opera Ghost," he smiled, "It paid rather well."

She just stared at him. Not quite sure what to say. He had money. He could provide for her and Gustave. No. She would not allow herself to think like that. Things would remain as they had for ten years.

"I hear you are singing at the concert on Friday."

"Yes, I have to be there in a few hours for the first rehearsals," she replied, "With the music for the song I intend to sing."

"And what song will that be?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted, "I was considering Think of Me."

In reply Erik merely raised his eyebrow.

"It holds special memories after all."

"The first time Raoul heard you sing," he snapped.

"It was also the first time you revealed yourself to me."

This rendered him speechless.

"You always think the worst of me," she almost laughed.

"I do," he agreed, "I have a suggestion."

"What is that?" Christine asked with genuine curiosity in her voice.

Erik did not say anything, he walked towards the piano, then sat down and began to play. The music was beautiful. Christine felt something inside her change. All she could think of was the music and her Angel. She found herself walking over to stand beside him so she could watch him play.

The music made her lose track of time completely. All too soon he had stopped playing.

"That was beautiful."

"So you will sing it?" he grinned, his eyes filling with pure joy.

"Yes!"

#

The rehearsal passed without event. Messieurs Andre and Firmin were overjoyed to see her. They were a little concerned about her song choice until they heard her sing it. Then everyone agreed it was perfect.

Throughout the first half of the rehearsal Christine felt his presence. When she was given a break, she sneaked out into the foyer, and then up the stairs. Eventually she found box five.

"I thought I'd find you here."

He had no heard her approach and jumped when she spoke.

"Did I just give the infamous Opera Ghost a fright?" she exclaimed with laughter in her voice.

He laughed.

"You sounded wonderful," he smiled.

"Thank you."

They stood in silence for a few moments. She wanted to ask him about the song, about the lyrics but she couldn't find the words.

"The lyrics…erm…"

"I wrote them with you in mind," he interrupted, looking in the opposite direction, purposely avoiding eye contact.

She couldn't avoid it much longer. Soon Christine was going to have no choice but to make that choice again. Things may turn out differently this time.

"I need to get home," she announced, "The concert is tomorrow and I need to get enough sleep."

He nodded and she turned to leave.

"Wait!" he called after her, "I should never have left that night. I am sorry, I wish more than anything I could change the past but I can't."

"I have to go," she muttered, and walked quickly down the corridor so he wouldn't see the tears streaming down her face.


	7. Chapter 7

"Something is going on, Andre."

"What do you mean?"

"Christine suddenly changed her mind about singing and then decides to sing a song with a mystery composer," Firmin explained.

Andre faltered, completely unsure of what to say.

"You don't think…not him..." he trailed off.

"The Opera Ghost."

"If what you believe is true what should we do?" Andre asked.

"Talk to her husband."

"Apparently it's easy enough to find him," Andre sighed, "He's found in the same bar every night."

#

Christine had been home for two hours when the door slammed and heavy footsteps heading towards her. She turned around to face the man who had entered the room but it was not the man she had expected. It came as a shock to a very sober looking Raoul standing in front of her.

"You didn't tell me you were going to sing at the Opera House again."

"I was going to-" she began.

"No you weren't," he interjected, "And I want to know who wrote that song."

She froze in horror as her husband's expression filled with anger.

"He's back, isn't he?"

All she could do was nod her head in reply. The anger in his face was replaced with hurt and shock. He stepped backwards and sunk down against the wall, his head in his hands.

"Why? After everything he did."

"I owe him," she replied.

"What on earth have you done that puts you in debt to that monster?" Raoul asked.

"I can't tell you," she sighed.

"Christine," Raoul whispered, standing up and crossing the room to stand close to her, "I am your husband, stop hiding things from me."

A single tear escaped and ran down her cheek. She couldn't tell him. If she did everything they had would be finished. He was thinking now, his brow was furrowed in concentration.

"What do you owe him?"

"It's been ten and a half years since I last saw him," she lied, "I hurt him."

Raoul sighed and pulled her into a tight embrace. She was crying but he remained perfectly composed. Then suddenly he pulled away.

"Why did you just say ten and half years?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's been almost thirteen years since we escaped that night," he continued, "So why did you say ten and a half?"

"I made a mistake."

"No," he muttered, "You saw him again after that."

She didn't deny it or agree with him.

"Christine, where did you go the night before our wedding?"

The whole world seemed to spin as he stared at her waiting for an answer.

"I was in my room the whole night," she lied again.

"No, I came at about midnight to check that you were alright but you weren't there. I never mentioned it because I didn't want to know."

When he didn't get a reply he continued.

"Am I Gustave's father?"

It was as if her whole world collapsed when he asked that question. What could she say?

"I don't think so."

His face became pained as she spoke and his eyes filled with sadness. He walked to the other end of the room, towards the whiskey decanter but changed his mind when he arrived there.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

This time he remained silent. Then he turned and walked out of the room.

"I'll stay at a hotel tonight," he called, "I'll be at the opening tomorrow night."

As soon as the door slammed Christine broke down. She sat on the ground beside the piano and sobbed. Everything was going wrong.


	8. Chapter 8

She couldn't sing the song. Not now. Now that she owed both of them something. It was twenty minutes before the performance began. The day had passed quickly and she hadn't seen either Erik or Raoul.

Then there was a knock at the door. It swung open and her husband stood in the doorway.

"Please, don't sing."

"I have to," she replied, "I promised."

"Once you sing for him again you will be under his power," he explained, "We could leave now and never return. I am willing to raise Gustave as my own."

That was a very good thing to do, Christine didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve anything good. All she seemed to do was hurt people.

"Give me a minute," she sighed.

Soon she was alone again with an important decision to make. She was going to choose tonight, it was either her Angel or her husband. She loved them both.

#

Raoul stormed down the corridor. Christine may leave with him without singing but before they left he had something to do. He arrived at his destination, a door, then opened it and walked in. The metal plaque on the door glinted as the light shifted. Box five.

He turned around to smile at Raoul as he entered. Raoul was overcome with the urge to punch him repeatedly in the face.

"Ah Vicomte!" he exclaimed.

"She is mine. She loves me and she will always choose me," he stated as calmly as possible.

"Are you sure?" he asked, still grinning smugly.

"Why would she ever choose you?" Raoul replied, his anger building up, "Look at you! You're disgusting!"

"Christine doesn't seem to think so," he smiled, "And Gustave is a fine specimen."

Raoul's anger burst out of him and he found himself throwing a punch at the other man. However, the Phantom was quicker, deflecting the punch with ease.

"Don't be stupid," he hissed and pushed Raoul towards the door.

Raoul left quickly and jogged to his seat so he didn't miss his wife. After standing at the door for twenty five minutes it dawned on him that she did not intend to leave with him. He ran back in, just in time for the beginning of the performance.

#

Standing at the side of the stage, Christine began to regret her choice. This did not mean she had chosen Erik, she hoped Raoul would understand that. She had to fulfil the promise she had made.

"Christine! You're on!"

She took a deep breath and stepped on to the stage.

#

As she walked on stage both men took a sharp intake of breath. This was the moment. Her choice was almost made, now all she had to do was sing his song and then it would be done.

She was standing in the middle of the stage but she didn't look happy. It filled both men with concern to see her looking like she wanted nothing more than to get off the stage. The crowd was finally quiet and then the music began.

Raoul frowned. He recognised the music which was odd. The music was went to have been composed by the man himself. His son reached over and took his hand.

Erik frowned too. This was not what he had written. Sadness began to build up inside him, then rage but he tried to stop it. He had learned to control his rage, he wasn't going to let it start again now.

"Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye."

After listening for a short while he walked out of the box and made his way to Christine's dressing room.

It dawned on Raoul that the fight may not be over yet. She had not sung his music. He was not in control of her yet. Raoul still had a chance. He would wait till the interval and then talk to her.

#

Christine opened the door to her dressing room to find him perched on the edge of her dressing table, his face was filled with an unrecognisable emotion. She kept her distance from him, she knew how angry her could get.

"Why didn't you sing it?"

"Raoul knows everything."

"And?" he asked, a hint of anger in his tone.

She sighed, how could she say this? How could she tell him that she still loved Raoul? Suddenly he was standing very close to her. Too close, she tried to step away but he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her even closer.

"Come with me," he muttered, then motioned for her to follow him.

#

Raoul entered Christine's dressing room only minutes later. At first he presumed she was in the toilet or speaking to one of the other performers. However, as time passed it dawned on him where she really was.

"He lived across the lake," he muttered to himself, as he ran out of the dressing room.


	9. Chapter 9

"How did this survive the fire?" she asked, surveying Erik's lair.

"The fire never touched here, it started in the building above here. I made sure it never came here," he replied.

Everything was exactly as it had been the night she had left. Her veil lay in the corner, draped over the iron railings that served as candle holders.

"Christine, things have changed," he smiled.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered.

"Christine, I love you."

At that moment everything became too much. She collapsed in floods of tears. Erik bent down beside her, then put his arm around her in an attempt to be comforting. He was a different man compared to the last time she been in this place with him.

There was a loud crash from behind them and a figure stumbled into the room. Raoul had arrived to fight for his cause. He stood still for a moment, surveying the scene before him. Erik helped Christine to her feet.

"Come with me, my love," Raoul smiled and beckoned to her.

She remained exactly where she was. Her choice was yet to be made. Erik remained silent but tensed considerably.

"Why would you choose him?" he exclaimed, "Do you not remember what he did to you?"

"It's been thirteen years, none of that matters anymore," she replied.

"Surely you must remember what he looks like under that mask?"

With one swift motion Erik removed his mask and his wig. He dropped it to the ground and stood perfectly still. Raoul winced at the sight while Christine didn't react at all. They all stood in silence until they heard a scream from the shadows at the entrance of the room. Then Gustave stepped out of the darkness.

Christine ran to her son as Raoul stood frozen. Her son was shaking with fear as she brought him further into the room.

"Even his son is terrified to look at him!"

Erik's expression filled with pure anger at Raoul's words. Christine was filled with rage too.

"How dare you," she almost screamed.

"Mother, what does he mean?"

"He may as well know!" Raoul shouted back.

She was so filled with rage that she stormed over to him and began to hit him. The punches weren't hurting him so he did nothing to stop her. Eventually she collapsed into his arms. Suddenly their mouths met and they were kissing. Nothing else mattered apart from their bodies entwining.

They broke apart and Christine was once again aware of her surroundings. She gasped at the scene before her.

Gustave was holding Erik's mask, inspecting it with interest. Beside him Erik was crouched down to his son's level, his expression was one of confusion and a small amount of something that looked like happiness.

Christine began to walk towards her son but then he moved. He wrapped his small arms around Erik in a tight embrace. For a few seconds he didn't move, then he returned the embrace. He looked up and caught Christine's eye bit looked away quickly.

"You should never judge someone on the way they look," Gustave announced, while pulling away from his father.

Erik's eyes filled with tears and he looked away in an attempt to hide it. His son didn't care that he was hideously deformed. That sentence had meant the world to him.

"Is this man my real father?" he asked Christine.

For about thirty seconds she said nothing. Erik's face filled with panic as he shook his head at Christine, commanding her to answer with a lie.

"Yes," she sighed.

Her son did not reply, he turned to his father and handed him his mask. Christine turned to say something to Raoul but he was nowhere to be seen. She turned back to the others. Erik was now sitting on the floor beside his son, a smile spreading across his face.

"Where's Raoul?" She asked.

Both her son and Erik shrugged their shoulders in reply. Erik took his son's hand and led him over to the organ that sat in the corner of the room. They both sat down and looked at each other, wondering who should play first. Eventually Erik began, then motioned for Gustave to join in.

Christine was watching them so intently that she didn't notice Raoul return.

"We're leaving now."

She spun around and let out a yelp when she noticed the silver pistol in his hand. It was a little longer before the music stopped as Erik realised what was happening. Before Christine knew what was happening Erik was standing between her and Raoul.

"Raoul, let's not be rash," Erik announced, making sure he was shielding Christine.

"She's my wife!" Raoul shouted, "I saved her from you and I'm going to do it again!"

"I don't need saved."

At that moment Christine stepped in front of him and walked towards Raoul.

"Give me the gun."

In reply Raoul aimed the gun at Christine's chest. Everyone froze. Then there was footsteps from outside, while Raoul was distracted Erik took the opportunity to pull Christine to safety behind him. Monsieur Andre ran in swiftly followed by Firmin.

Both of their eyes widened in horror as they saw the scene before them.

"Get over there," Raoul ordered, motioning for them to stand beside the others.

Andre gave Christine a look but then noticed Gustave crouched behind the organ and went to make sure he was alright. Firmin stood beside Christine, giving her a very questioning look.

"Raoul, what on earth is going on?" Firmin asked.

"I'm trying to save her from that monster!"

Firmin's gaze settled on Erik for the first time since he had entered the room. An unrecognisable emotion passed over his face but then he walked over and stood beside Erik.

"Put down the gun and we'll talk about this," Firmin almost begged.

"You know nothing, Firmin!" Raoul exclaimed, "That child isn't mine! Gustave's father is that thing!"

If Firmin was shocked by this he did not let it show. He remained perfectly still while Erik spun around to Christine.

"I love you," he whispered and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Then suddenly he spun around and walked towards Raoul, who's eyes widened in slight terror. Raoul took a deep breath, then pointed the gun at Christine. At that moment Erik lunged at him. They were wrestling for the gun but while this was happening Firmin pushed Christine towards her son and Andre.

The gunshot rang out.

Andre covered Gustave's eyes before looking around to see what had happened. Firmin stepped backwards to let Christine run past. Erik looked down at the ever growing bloodstain at the bottom of his shirt. Then he fell to the ground.

Raoul stood above him, his expression was one of pure horror. He dropped the gun and turned to leave but Firmin ran forward and stopped him.

"Don't even think about it," Firmin whispered, "I will be involving the police."

Andre ran back upstairs, screaming for help. Christine sat down beside Erik.

"I love you," she whispered.

"There's no time for that now," he replied, "If I don't make it through this I want Gustave to have everything."

"You will live."

"But if I don't I want to be sure that Gustave will inherit everything I own."

Both of them were crying. Firmin was comforting Gustave and Raoul was sitting in the corner looking shocked.

"I'll make sure of it," Firmin called from where he was.

Christine stroked the half of Erik's face that wasn't covered by the mask. Then she slipped the mask off and kissed him. During the kiss Andre arrived with help. There was a doctor and three other men who were carrying a makeshift stretcher.

Eventually the broke apart from the kiss. The doctor stepped in to survey Erik's injury.

"If we get him to a hospital quick enough then I think he can be saved."

Gustave ran forward as they were lifting Erik in the stretcher and held his father's hand as they walked back upstairs.


	10. Chapter 10

"Christine, I didn't meant it," Raoul cried, "I didn't mean to shoot. I'm so sorry."

"It's a little late for apologies," Christine hissed.

"But…but…I love you!"

At that moment Christine could have slapped him. She could not believe how things had turned out. If she was completely honest she had been about to choose Raoul but now. She never wanted to see his face again.

Andre reached over and put his arm around Christine. She collapsed but he held her up. Firmin arrived back with a group of police officers, who promptly handcuffed Raoul and led him away. They were left alone as Firmin went with the officers to tell them exactly what happened.

"I always meant to tell you something but I never got round to it," he announced suddenly.

"What?" she asked, quietly.

"I was a very close friend of your father when we were young men. We lost touch but I visited him one last time before he died. I made him a promise. I promised that I would look after you," he paused, briefly, "I didn't do a very good job, did I?"

Christine looked up at Andre and noticed the tears filling his eyes. Suddenly a few things became much clearer.

"That's why you let me sing that day," she smiled.

"I knew who you were as soon as I laid eyes on you," he muttered, "I told your father about my plans to purchase the opera house before he died and he asked that I let you sing. He said he had made you a promise."

"He said he would send me an Angel who would help me sing."

"I should have done more to protect you."

"Don't feel any of this is your fault," she replied, "If anyone is to blame it's me."

"Funny, I would place more blame on the Opera Ghost or your insane husband."

"You don't know half the story!" she exclaimed, "I went back to him. The night before I married Raoul."

Andre didn't reply. He was at a loss for what to say.

"So Gustave is the child of the Phantom? I have to say I did not expect that," Andre chuckled slightly.

"I love him."

"I would expect you to love your son-"

"No," she interjected, "I love the Phantom."

"And you want me to give you some sensible, fatherly advice," Andre sighed, "Your father was a better man than I could ever hope to be but I shall try."

She waited in silence for him to say something.

"Do you love him more than Raoul?" he asked.

"I don't know if I feel anything towards Raoul after what he did."

"Right," he replied, "Well, if you love him then there should be nothing stopping you being with him."

"But what do you think my father would say?"

"He would never try to stop you being with someone you loved."

That was what Christine had needed. Her father had guided her through life and then when he had died she had been so lost. To be honest she had never really gotten over his death. She had needed a father figure to tell her exactly what to do.

"Thank you, Andre."

"It was nothing," he smiled, "And I expect to see you soon for rehearsals, whether you are with him or not. He's welcome too, as long as he doesn't bloody well wreck the place again."

"Don't worry, he won't," she laughed, then a sudden panic overcame her, "Where is Gustave?"

"With the ballet girls."

Christine thanked him again and then walked quickly backstage to find a young girl looking after Gustave. When he saw his mother he ran towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Come on, we're going to the hospital," she announced, then thanked the ballet girl as they made their way to the front of the theatre.

#

When Christine got to the front of the theatre she realised that she had no way of travelling to the hospital. She held her head in her hands and tried to stop her eye from filling with tears. Gustave tugged at her sleeve which caused her to look up.

"Does Madame need a lift?"

"Do you have any idea how to drive this thing?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Vaguely," he muttered, "Can't be that hard!"

Andre was perched in the driver's seat of a rather grand looking carriage. Christine sighed and stepped in, lifting Gustave in after her. They sped through the streets of Paris at a rather terrifying speed and whirled around corners so fast Christine was scared that the carriage may overturn.

Suddenly the carriage screeched to a halt. There was a crash, followed by a few muttered curses, then Andre opened the door. Christine swore she saw him let out a sigh of relief when he saw they were both unharmed.

They both got out of the carriage and walked towards the hospital.

"I don't know if I can do this," Christine whispered.

"I'm here beside you."


	11. Chapter 11

Christine walked along the corridor towards his room. Andre had paused to talk to a doctor about Erik's condition and Gustave had stayed with him. Suddenly she was overcome with emotion, she had no idea what to do.

She wasn't ready for this. She couldn't face him. In the back of her mind she knew that she still loved both of them, even after what Raoul had done. Just before she arrived at the door she stopped. This wasn't what she wanted to do.

Christine turned on her heels and fled the hospital.

#

Erik was very surprised when he began to regain consciousness. When he had been shot he had presumed that his death was imminent. He opened his eyes to find himself in a hospital bed with a small figure sleeping on the chair beside him.

After a few seconds he realised who the figure was; his son. Why was he alone? Should he not be with his mother after all that he had witnessed? Where was Christine? It was then he noticed there was someone else in the room.

"I see you have awoken."

The voice was not who he had expected. What on earth was one of the managers doing at his bedside?

"We have a small problem," Andre continued.

"What?"

"Christine appears to have run away," he replied.

Erik froze.

"So who's looking after the boy? And what is he doing at my bedside?" Erik exclaimed, "Shouldn't he be with his father?"

"She told me everything," Andre sighed, shaking his head, "I know the boy is yours."

"Oh," Erik muttered.

"And I have been looking after him."

"Thank you."

"But once you are back to full health the duty will obviously fall to you," Andre finished.

Erik didn't reply. He just turned to look at Gustave. After a few moments he seemed to recover enough to speak.

"I can't do that," he muttered.

"Why not?" Andre asked.

"I have absolutely no idea what to do," Erik replied, "What if he hurts himself? Or gets upset over something? The Opera Ghost isn't exactly known for his people skills."

"I realise dropping chandeliers and killing people is much more your style but he's your son."

"But what do I do?"

"Be yourself," Andre half smiled, then faltered, "When I say that I don't mean move into the Opera House and get him to help you terrorize the place."

In reply Erik turned to glare at him but suddenly broke into a smile. Andre was suddenly aware of how odd the situation was. He couldn't help feeling sorry for this man.

"I suppose I'll need to buy a house," Erik muttered more to himself than Andre.

"Yes," Andre agreed, "The basement of the Opera House is not an ideal place to raise a child."

"You know, it's only Christine and Gustave who haven't been horrified by my face."

"Maybe you've just met the wrong people?"

"And what do you mean by that?" Erik asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Surely you've noticed that you aren't wearing your mask!"

His hand reached up to touch his own face and he flinched slightly when he found no mask. Andre was watching him with an unreadable expression.

"I'm going to leave you with your son now."

"Thank you, Andre."

"You are very welcome."

#

Erik sat and watched his son for what felt like hours. He was amazed by the boy's perfection, not a hint of deformity. His son would never have to go through what he went through. It was a miracle.

The doctor had informed him that he would be allowed out of the hospital in a few days at the most. However, after going a short walk down the corridor it appeared he would have a rather noticeable limp.

It was then Gustave began to stir. He rubbed his eyes and sat up in his chair, looking straight at his father.

"You're awake!" he smiled and leaped onto the bed, pulling Erik into a tight embrace.

"Yes," Erik replied, at a loss for what else to say.

Erik moved over and let Gustave sit next to him on the bed. Once he was comfortable Erik put his arm around him. They sat like that for a long time, neither could think of the right thing to say.


	12. Chapter 12

For the first few days of living in their new house Erik and his son didn't speak very much. Erik still had absolutely no idea how to look after a child but had no choice as Christine was yet to reappear.

"Do you need something, Gustave?"

His son stepped into the room but didn't move any closer to him. It was late at night, Gustave had went to bed hours ago so Erik was surprised to see him standing in the doorway.

"I had a bad dream," Gustave whispered and Erik noticed that he had been crying.

Erik froze. How on earth was he going to deal with this?

"Come here," he eventually sighed.

Gutave walked towards him and stood in front of him, unsure of what to do next. For a moment Erik was unsure too, then he reached out his hand and pulled his son onto his lap. The boy stared at him but then laid his head on Erik's chest and relaxed.

After about five minutes of silence Gustave spoke.

"When is mother coming back?"

"I don't know," Erik replied, reaching out his hand to run his fingers through Gustave's hair, in what he believed was a comforting manner.

"Will she come back?"

"I have no idea," he whispered.

They sat like that and eventually Gustave fell asleep. Erik stayed awake for most of the night, terrified that if he fell asleep he would move and hurt the boy. However, tiredness did eventually overcome him.

#

Erik was awoken the next morning by a loud banging at the door. He lifted a still sleeping Gustave up and placed him back down on the chair, then went to get the door.

On opening the door he found a rather harassed looking Andre.

"May I come in?"

They went into the living room, Andre smiled at the sight of Gustave sleeping peacefully. Then he turned around to face Erik.

"There has been no sign of her," he announced, "It seems that Christine does not want to be found."

"I thought as much," Erik sighed, "So the boy is now permanently in my care?"

"Yes," Andre replied.

There was silence for a while.

"I heard you managed to convince the police to let Raoul go free."

"The man doesn't deserve all this. I cannot help but blame myself for the way his life has turned out."

Suddenly Andre began to chuckle to himself while Erik looked at him with a confused expression on his face.

"I fail to see what is funny about this situation."

"Just how much things have changed," Andre smiled, "You've become a very good man over the past thirteen years."

"Thank you."

"Look, I don't want to sound rude…" Andre began, "But do you have enough money?"

"I am fairly sure that I do," Erik replied.

"Well, if you just want something to get you out of the house…" he trailed off.

"Go on?"

"We need a new director of music at the Opera House," he finished and looked up to see Erik's reaction.

He stood still and then suddenly seemed to wake up.

"Yes."

#

Andre managed to charm enough important people that Gustave got a place at the best school in Paris. Erik began work at the Opera House a few weeks after he agreed to it.

Father and son became much closer. They often found themselves chatting about their days or telling each other funny things that had happened. Almost every night they would play piano together or Erik would teach his son violin.

After a while Gustave stopped asking about Christine. He was the happiest he had ever been with his father and so no reason to ruin it by bringing up his mother and making Erik sad.

The weeks changed to months and soon it was a year since Christine's disappearance. Erik remembered the date and Andre sensed his mood as soon as he entered the Opera House.

"You can take the day off if you want?" he suggested, "I know what day it is."

"No," Erik frowned, "but thank you anyway."

"Does Gustave know?"

"I think so," Erik admitted, "I've arranged for him to be dropped off here after school. I'll take him out for dinner as a treat."

Andre nodded.

The rest of the day passed quickly and Erik lost track of time. He was surprised to find Gustave standing in the entrance hall as he walked through.

"I didn't realise the time!" he exclaimed, "Have you been waiting for very long?"

"No, I just arrived," Gustave replied.

"Right," Erik smiled, ruffling his son's hair, "I'll just go grab my coat, wait here."

Erik ran into the theatre and grabbed his jacket. As he was leaving Andre appeared beside him.

"The work you have done with the cast is quite extrodinary," he grinned, "The reviews have been wonderful."

"It wasn't that hard," he replied as they continued back towards the entrance hall.

"We are very thankful for it," Andre smiled, opening the door and beckoning for Erik to go through first.

He walked through and stood frozen in shock. Before him she stood. His Christine. Andre walked through the door and out of the corner of his eye Erik saw his whole body tense. She also stood frozen.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked.

Christine was gripping Gustave's hand tightly, trying to pull him towards the door. However, Gustave was digging his heels, refusing to go without a fight.

"Taking my son back," she replied, quietly.

"He is my son too."

She completely ignored him and continued to drag Gustave towards to door.

"Come on, Gustave," she murmured, "Mother's back now, it's alright."

"You cannot just take him!" Erik exclaimed, "I have looked after him for the past year!"

"And I looked after him for the ten years before that," she hissed.

"I would have been there if I had known about his existence," he replied, quietly.

"You really think that?" she laughed.

"Yes."

"I think you seem to be forgetting where I rescued you from," she smiled, "You were nothing but another circus freak when I found you."

Erik winced at her words. He had not expected her to bring up such a thing in front of her son.

"Stop it," he muttered.

"Then let me take my son!"

"What about me?" he asked.

"You could come with us," she replied, letting go of Gustave to move closer to him.

They stood like that for what felt like hours, only a few centimetres apart and then suddenly she leaned forward. Their lips met and she began to kiss him. He kissed her back but there were tears running down his cheeks as he pulled away.

"No," he smiled.

"What?" she exclaimed, taking a step backwards.

"I will not go anywhere with you," he announced, "I've had a lot of time to think over the past year and I realised something. I don't love you and you don't love me. You may think you do but you don't and you never have. We have mistaken other emotions for love. You pitied me and I don't really know what I felt for you."

Christine remained completely silent. Her eyes filled with a mixture of disbelief and anger.

"So Christine it appears this is goodbye."

"Fine," she snarled, "Come on Gustave."

Erik was about to turn away so he didn't have to watch them go but suddenly Andre stepped forward.

"I believe Gustave should get some choice in this matter," he called after her.

"He will come with me," she hissed.

"If you are so sure then why don't you let him choose," Andre replied, calmly.

After what appeared to be some sort of internal struggle Christine let go of Gustave and glared at Erik.

"Make your choice," Andre smiled.

Gustave stood frozen in horror. He loved both of his parents. How could he choose? It was a very big decision for an eleven year old boy to make. Tears began to well up in his eyes as he looked between them.

Erik stood frozen. His eyes locked on his son. This would be the last time he would see the boy, of that he was sure. Of course he would pick his mother. There was no reason for him to pick him, he was nothing but an ugly circus freak.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that it took him a few moments to notice the small arms wrapped around his waist.

Gustave looked up at him, with tears pouring down his cheeks and gave him a smile. Christine was staring at them, her mouth hanging open in shock.

Erik crouched down beside Gustave and used the edge of his coat to wipe the tears from his face. He then pulled his son into another tight embrace and he felt Andre rest a hand on his shoulder.

"Why don't I take Gustave and give two a while to talk?" Andre suggested.

Soon they stood alone in the entrance hall.

"Is this all because I left you?" she asked.

"No," he replied, "Even if you hadn't left I'm sure one of us would have realised it sooner or later."

"But…" she stuttered, "I love you."

"We've been through this already," he sighed, "Just go."

With that Christine placed a kiss on his cheek and then left the Opera House.


	13. Chapter 13

Erik had been lying. He loved Christine but he loved his son more. At that moment in time he had been forced to make an awful decision. Of course he had wanted her. His son was the most important thing in his life now.

Gustave knew something was wrong. His father didn't smile as often and spent most evenings composing melancholy music. Eventually he seemed to recover. However, only his son noticed that his smile was hardly ever genuine and his laugh was always false.

As the months turned into years Erik watched his son grow up and each day Gustave seemed to look more like his mother. As Gustave's seventeenth birthday neared Erik found himself thinking about Christine more than usual. It had been five years since they had last seen each other, she would have a handsome husband by now and a few children. He still thought about what would happen if they met again.

Gustave was no longer a child, he didn't need his father's constant presence. Erik could make himself happy now. However, the only thing that would make him happy was Christine and she was gone forever.

Gustave was worried about his father. Over the last few years it had seemed like he was getting over Christine but in the past few weeks he had been upset about something. His father still loved her. The only way he could make things better would be to find his mother.

So he began his search. After a couple of weeks he realised that he had almost no idea what he was doing. He went to the only other adult he fully trusted.

"Monsieur I need your help."

"Shouldn't you ask your father if you need something?"

"My father can't know," he replied.

The two men stood in Box Four of the Opera House watching rehearsals. Andre had been surprised to see him but had been willing to listen to what he wanted to say.

"I need to find her."

"Can you clarify who you need to find?" Andre asked, raising an eyebrow.

"My mother," Gustave sighed.

"But your father has been so good to you…I don't know if I can betray him like that…" Andre trailed off.

"I have no interest in seeing her," Gustave exclaimed, "It's for him."

Andre stared at him for a while, assessing the situation.

"I'm not sure I understa-"

"He still loves her."

"I know exactly where she is."

Andre had scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and escorted Gustave to his carriage.

"Gustave, please don't get your hopes up. I have no idea what her life is like now. Don't get upset if she doesn't want to return."

"Thank you," he smiled, as the carriage pulled away.

The drive was much too short for his liking and he found himself delaying as much as possible. What if she didn't want to see him? What if she had a new family? There was a never ending list of ways this could go wrong.

For a minute he considered telling the driver to take him home. Then he came to his senses, he had to do this for his father. After all his father had done for him, he deserved a little happiness. Taking a deep breath he opened the carriage door and stepped onto the street.

The walk up the stairs to the front door of the house also went too quickly and Gustave was soon standing on the top step. Another few deep breaths later, he plucked up the courage to knock.

It seemed that he wasn't going to get an answer, then the door swung open. It was her. It was his mother. She looked almost exactly the same as she had when they had last been together.

"Good day," she smiled, "What do you want?"

She didn't recognise him. His heart sunk.

"Surely you recognise your own son."

Her face lit up as he spoke. Suddenly he was pulled into a tight embrace.

"Gustave," she muttered, smiling.

She turned around and pulled him by the hand inside the house.

They were sitting in the living room of Christine's house. She was close to tears because of Gustave's appearance.

"It's fabulous to see you again," she smiled.

"Yes," he agreed, "However, I didn't come here for me."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

Gustave sighed and ran his finger through his hair.

"I came here for father."

Christine froze when she heard that.

"It's because-"

"What on earth could I do to help him?" she exclaimed, "He doesn't love me."

"That isn't true."

"You think so?" she almost shouted, "He seemed rather sincere when he told me."

"He's a very good actor," Gustave replied, "He's been so sad since that day. He thinks I don't notice but I do. You know why he did it? Because he thought that it was what was best for me."

She continued to stare at him, her mouth hanging open in shock.

"He loves you and he needs you."

After a minute or so she seemed to recover enough to stand up from the chair and walk over to him.

"Will you come with me to him?" he asked.

She nodded in reply, tears streaming down her cheeks. Gustave stood up and wrapped his arms around her. They stood like that for a while, Christine crying into his shoulder and silent tears slid down his cheek.


	14. Chapter 14

"I don't know if this is a good idea," Christine muttered.

"Believe me it is," Gustave replied.

They were standing on the top step of the Opera House while Christine made her decision. She looked nervous, she was twisting the hem in the middle of her dress and glancing around as if looking for someone.

Gustave held the door open for her. She took a deep breath and walked in.

"I think he's in rehearsals just now," Gustave announced, walking towards the door that led into the theatre.

He opened the door slightly, just enough to fit his head through. His father was in the midst of what looked like a busy rehearsal. The cast were on the stage chatting while Erik instructed the orchestra.

"He's in there in there if you want to-"

It was then he noticed his mother had disappeared. At first he thought she had left then he heard her light footsteps on the stairs to the boxes. Gustave smiled, then slipped into the theatre and took a seat to watch the rehearsal.

"Everyone take a ten minute break!" Erik announced, running his hands through his wig and spinning around to face away from the stage.

Sighing he began to walk towards the door when he felt as if he was being watched but not from the back of the stalls or the stage. He was sure there was someone in one of the boxes. Glancing up he noticed a figure in his box but he was unable to see who as they were hiding in the darkness.

Curiosity got the better of him and he soon found himself standing outside Box Five. He knocked on the door twice yet there was still no answer. Eventually he opened the door, then walked in.

"The Opera is not open to the public at the moment."

It was then Christine stepped out of the darkness so she was clearly visible. He stepped backwards and took a deep breath, he was pressed against the door, feeling a little odd.

"What are you doing here?" he finally managed to utter.

"Our son," she replied.

He had known that Gustave had been up to something but he had never even considered it might involve Christine. It was true he Erik had been acting a bit depressed over the past few weeks but he thought he had done a rather good job of hiding it and the reasons behind it.

"And for what reason did he do that?" he asked.

"This," she smiled, then suddenly she had moved across the room and was standing only a few inches in front of him.

Then her lips were on his. Erik froze, could she really still love him? He had dreamt of this moment but had never really truly believed that it would really happen, he had never let himself get his hopes up. When he didn't kiss back she pulled away, tears filling her eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't-"

But she was caught off by Erik kissing her. This continued until suddenly Christine pulled away again. Before Erik could protest she slipped off his mask and wig.

"Christine," he protested.

"No," she cut him off before he could continue, "You don't have to hide from me, your face doesn't frighten me. You've had to hide all your life but I love you and I wish people hadn't treated you the way they did."

Erik just stared at her as she continued.

"I am so sorry for all the hardships I caused you," she continued, "I should never have left that night."

"I disagree," he replied, "You did the right thing by leaving. I killed a man and kidnapped you, it was hardly the most romantic thing to do. I was broken hearted when you left and you made me the happiest man in the world when you came back that night."

"But you still left."

"Once it was over and you were sleeping next to me, I began to think about what kind of life you would have with me. Then I thought of the life you would have with Raoul and I realised that I had to go," he explained.

Suddenly they were kissing again and things quickly escalated. Erik pulled Christine closer and she began to caress his deformity. She pulled away from his lips and began to cover the deformed sigh of his face in kisses. It was then Erik let out a low whimper.

Then he pulled away.

"I have a rehearsal to go back to," he announced, smiling at Christine as he put on his wig and mask.

"I love you," she whispered.

"And I love you too."

It was then Erik noticed the Opera was empty, there were no cast members hanging around the stage or musicians tuning up. Everyone had disappeared. Then he noticed Andre and Firmin standing in the box opposite, grinning like lunatics.

"It appears the rehearsal has finished early," he smiled and nodded at the two men.

Christine walked forward to wave at the two men and took Erik' hand in her own.

"Shall we fetch our son and go to a restaurant before the opera tonight?"


End file.
